Parish: Killing Me Slowly

Chapter 3

Okay, so I know I haven't uploaded in forever and I'm really sorry about that. To make it up to you guys, i'll try to post at least once a week hopefully. I really am sorry (: So here's chapter 3 and I really hope you enjoy it. 

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Chapter Three 

When we get home, my father is not there so I don't have to go immediately to my room. I follow Greg into the kitchen, knowing he wants to talk to me, to ask my why I was about to tell this man I just met about everything our father has ever done to me. 

Instead, he just looks at me intently. Soon enough, his gaze becomes too much and I flinch. 

"What?" I practically yell. He should at least say something! 

"Why?" He asks. 

"Why what?" I reply, playing dumb. I know what he wants, but I don't want to answer him, even though I know I have to. 

"Why were you going to tell him?" He says softly. 

"I... I don't really know why." I say and I turn to look out the window, starring at the forest. It comforts me for some reason. Maybe because a forest is a place you could easily get lost in. Some place to get away from this living nightmare. 

"You need to be more careful Leigh. I know you always are, but you need to be especially careful around Blade. He may seem nice but there's something about him that just feels... off." He warns. He's right. 

"I know." I say. "I'm sorry." I look down and instantly feel warm arms encompass me and I hold onto him tightly. There really is no one else in this world that could get me through all of this like Greg. 

In fact, he's the one that's been able to keep my little secret for all these years. It's because of him that I haven't told anyone. No one would be able to do anything anyway. They don't know our dad like we do. He would stop at nothing if I were involved. Nothing. 

The thought makes me shiver and Greg pulls me closer. I rest my head against his chest and we stay like that for a few minutes. When I pull away, I look up at him. 

"We'll get through this Leigh. I promise you, we'll get you through this." I smile as tears threaten my eyes and no matter how many times I blink, they spill over anyway. 

He grabs a tissue and hands it to me. I wipe them away softly and head up to my room. Although my father isn't home now, he will be soon. 

When I reach my room, I take a long, hot shower and then try to work on my homework. Since I was able to get out of a few hours of school, I have work to do. Greg has oh so kindly (note the sarcasm) gotten me any work I am missing. What are big brothers for, right? I smile at the thought and go back to my homework. 

About two hours later I hear a car door slam and our front door open and close. All the color drains from my face as I realize it could only be one person. My father is home. 

First come the creaks in the steps as he is walking upstairs, slowly too, I note. Probably to make me squirm. He is seriously a sick, twisted man. 

Then come footsteps down the hall, slower this time. I suppose he is enjoying this. I can imagine the cruel smile placed upon his lips and grimace at the thought. I am sweating now and I have to get myself under control. 

The door creaks open and I turn around to face my one true nightmare. 

My dad stands in my doorway, a shadow cast across his face. I can't see his expression so I have no idea what kind of mood he is in. Judging by the way he is standing though, it isn't very good. 

"Leigh. Lovely lovely Leigh. How are you today?" Oh my God. His voice is sickly sweet and eerily calm. That means he is in as bad a mood as he could be. I seriously hate whoever puts him in these moods. 

"Much better now, father." I recite. The words come naturally to me now. I quickly learned that this is the reaction he expects from me. If he doesn't get it, I do. 

"Good to know my dear. Why don't you join Greg and I for a nice dinner in the dining room." He says and walks back downstairs. 

I stare, dumbfounded, as what he said sinks in. He didn't even hit me. Didn't touch me. What the hell? Not that I mind or anything, it's just weird. Something can't possibly be right. 

Wearily, I get up from my chair and head downstairs, slowly. When I reach the dining room door, I inch forward. As soon as I put a little pressure on the door, it swings open and slams into my face, causing me to fall back and hit my head again. 

Stars explode behind my vision and I can't help the tears that run down my face. The headache I had earlier hadn't gone completely away yet and returned with a vengeance. My head hurt twice as much now and it was all I could do to keep from crying out. 

My father walks out from behind the door and smirks down at me. He offers me a hand and I just back up until I hit the couch. He frowns and walks toward me with a purpose, his face expressionless. I know I messed up. This is what he lives for. 

I cringe as I feel his fist connect with my cheek and am not surprised at how much it hurts. My poor head can't take much more of this. I feel more punches and slaps across my body and begin to feel numb. I can't remember when the pain turned numb and I don't think it was a good thing. 

"You filthy little slut. How Maria could have given birth to a worthless girl like you I have no idea." He snarls. "When I'm through with you, no one will ever want you." 

When my father is finished, he walks to the table, grabs his keys and leaves the house. I wait till I hear his engine rev and tires screech before I begin inspecting myself for any broken bones... or worse. 

I'm very sore and am sure he did some damage to my face, but nothing else feels broken. I have a few scratches on my skin and bruises everywhere. I can't get up. Everything hurts to much. 

"Greg." I call weakly. Instantly, I feel his arms around me and I feel myself being picked up. 

He takes me to my room and into our combined bathroom to help clean me up. When he notices all the bruises, he winces but doesn't say a word, that is, until he looks me in the eyes. The moment he does, I see pure fury in his eyes and pity the person that made him look like this. Then, I remember it was my father's doing and hope Greg gives him what he deserves. 

"I won't do it anymore." He whispers quietly, looking away. "I won't let him hurt you anymore. I can't just sit by and watch it any longer. I'm sick of it!" He finishes with a yell and I wince, my head pounding louder than ever. 

"Greg," I manage to choke out. "I need to go to the hospital." His eyes snap back to me and he shakes his head furiously. 

"No. You can't go to the hospital and you damn well know why. They'll ask questions. Questions you can't answer. If he finds out, he'll kill you Leigh. I'm not going to let that happen." 

"So what you're saying," I whisper "is that instead of trying to get some help I should just endure his torture until I'm old enough to leave this hell hole? Or even until he kills me?" 

As soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret them and wish I could take them back. I see his eyes dim and his shoulders sag. I wish I could be strong for him, really I do, but sometimes it's hard to be strong for anyone anymore. I just don't see the point of it. 

"Leigh, is that what you really think? I won't let him kill you." He whispers. 

"Please, just make the pain stop." I say and he nods his head. 

"I will. I promise." He says and I fall back into complete and utter darkness.